


But my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake

by lover_of_many_things



Series: Guardian Angel AU [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, Guardian Angel AU, Minor Character Death, Other, nothing ever seems to go Carmilla's way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_many_things/pseuds/lover_of_many_things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mattie told Carmilla that they were only assigned one person at a time, until it was that person’s time to die. When Carmilla first heard this she furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “If we’re guardian angels shouldn’t we be preventing their death?” Mattie chuckled, as if the question was some sort of inside joke, and told Carmilla that everyone had their specific time; it was only their job to make sure that every person made it to their time and didn’t die beforehand.</p><p> A Carmilla guardian angel AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	But my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of going to be the prequel to another fic that I'm going to write as a companion to this one. This is mostly Carmilla's backstory and a setting up for what is going to happen in the next fic. (I apologize for all the angst.) 
> 
> Warning that LaF is misgendered and goes by Susan up until they come out as non-binary.

No matter how hard she tried, Carmilla could never remember how she came into existence. She only recalled opening her eyes, and then she just _was_ ; she was Carmilla, standing in a garden in an extravagant, dark blue gown. (She had scourged her memory for years, but she only ever got that far. Mattie had told her not to worry about that, none of them remembered _before_ —none of them wanted to.)

It wasn’t long after first opening her eyes that Carmilla had met Lilita, or Maman as she insisted on being called. Maman was in charge of everyone, Carmilla learned very quickly. She presented herself as welcoming and nurturing, but her rim rod, tense posture led Carmilla to believe she wasn’t as wholly virtuous as she seemed.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, darling, you’ll have some time before you’re actually tasked with someone, and Mattie will take you under her wing.” Maman chuckled a bit at her own joke and gave Carmilla a tight-lipped smile before spreading her large wings and flying away.

That was another thing Carmilla had to get accustomed to—wings. She had _wings_. She bent her arm up and around her shoulder in an effort to run her fingers along them, but she couldn’t quite reach them. The sound of flapping announced the arrival of another woman who landed and laughed at Carmilla’s position. Carmilla immediately dropped her hand back to her side and took in the woman in front of her. Her wings were not as large as Maman’s, but they still had quite the span.

“Are you Mattie?” The woman in front of her—Mattie, nodded.

“Yes, and you’re Carmilla.” Carmilla nodded slowly and eyed Mattie’s wings.

“Both you and Maman have wings…I can’t find mine.” She reached her arm to her back once again, running her fingers around the tailored opening on the back of her gown to no avail. Mattie laughed again; it was a light and bouncing laugh, more free than Maman’s.

“Because, silly girl,” Mattie started as she folded her wings in and rounded Carmilla, “you are young, therefore your wings are small. They will grow as you do.” Mattie touched the base of Carmilla’s young wings, making Carmilla arch her back away from the touch. “Oh, yes, they do tend to be sensitive in the beginning.” Carmilla wasn’t sure if Mattie was talking to her about her wings or if Mattie was reminding herself of her first few days _being_.

Mattie became somewhat of a big sister to Carmilla after that day. She told Carmilla what she was, or rather, what she would be.

“A guardian angel?” There was an incessant tap in the back of her head that told Carmilla she had heard of such things before. She didn’t know where.

“Yes. There are people _down there_ who are going to depend on you, people who you’re going to protect.”

She showed Carmilla _down there_. She told her no one could see them unless they chose to interact, which was banned at any time other than when their person needed the help. She told her that they would be able to understand and communicate in any language their person spoke. She showed her how many people there were to protect, how important and busy their jobs were. Mattie told Carmilla that they were only assigned one person at a time, until it was that person’s time to die. When Carmilla first heard this she furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “If we’re guardian angels shouldn’t we be preventing their death?” Mattie chuckled, as if the question was some sort of inside joke, and told Carmilla that everyone had their specific time; it was only their job to make sure that every person made it to their time and didn’t die beforehand.

“Maman doesn’t like failure, Carmilla.” Mattie warned one day as she and Carmilla shadowed the man Mattie was tasked with protecting. It had been decided by Maman, that Carmilla would shadow Mattie for one person before protecting her own since her wings were still too small to carry herself. The man that they had both been watching since birth was now a twenty-year old apprentice, recently engaged.

Carmilla had quickly become intrigued by the man even in his day to day life. She couldn’t understand how Mattie could stand there looking uninterested for the most part. “You see one life; you’ve seen most of them.” Mattie had told her when Carmilla had questioned her about it one day.

The man continued to age and Carmilla’s wings continued to grow, but she never became less interested. The man’s life wasn’t very remarkable; he wasn’t rich, he wasn’t daring, he didn’t take many risks. But he was happy. He was married, which started out as obligation but quickly turned into love, he had three children, two boys and one girl, he had a nice home, and he was healthy. Carmilla reveled in being able to watch the family every day, but it made her wonder.

“Mattie,” she finally spoke one day as they stood and watched the daughter’s wedding, “what if the person we’re tasked with isn’t a good person? What if they hurt other people? Do we still have to help them reach their time?” Mattie looked at Carmilla for a while before answering.

“Usually, if something unforeseen happens with the people we’re assigned, there is a discussion on how to proceed based upon each individual. Sometimes we help others who look over the people they’re hurting, and other times we…do what is necessary.” Carmilla solemnly nodded before turning back to watch the wedding.

Carmilla and Mattie stood on either side of the man’s bed on the day his time would come. Carmilla felt sad as she watched his wife weeping at his bedside, his eldest son pacing at the foot of his bed, his other son and daughter ignorant, off on their separate trips, but she was also a little bit nervous—she was about to get her first person. She stretched her wings out slightly; they were still nowhere near as large as Mattie or Maman’s, but she could at least use them now instead of depending on Mattie. They watched as the man consoled his wife and gave some last advice to his son before he started to slip away. Right before the man was gone, Mattie grinned at her. “Good luck, little fledgling” was the last thing Carmilla heard from Mattie before she was transported to a bedroom where a baby’s screams filled the air.

 

The first person Carmilla was tasked with watching over by herself was a boy from England who was named James Percy. It had taken a couple of days for his parents to actually agree on what to name the baby since the mother wanted to name him after her father, but the father wanted the boy to make his own name. After four days they reached a compromise and Carmilla finally had a name to the face she would be watching every day.

It had taken only a few months for Carmilla to realize how lonely her job was without Mattie by her side. Mattie had told her that each guardian gets a break period once every three persons, but during that time it was rare to see any other guardian. When you were _down there_ you were invisible to everyone in order to keep the distractions limited.

So Carmilla took comfort in watching James Percy grow each day. She was there for all of his firsts, even when his parents weren’t. They were often off traveling or doing business that kept them away from home, always placing James Percy in the care of his wet nurse. But Carmilla was always there too. She watched in awe as he said his first word—Ma—and reached out toward his wet nurse. She scolded him for it and told him that she wasn’t his mother, though she might as well have been.

Carmilla walked alongside him during his first steps, making sure to catch him before he fell head first into the corner of a table. She made sure that he never fell too hard, but Mattie had also warned her that Carmilla shouldn’t let _no_ harm ever come to who she was watching, that that—pain—was a part of life that everyone had to go through. Carmilla had problems with those instructions though and winced every time she had to watch the child fall down, scrape up his hands and knees, or even stub his toe, when she knew she could have stopped it.

By the time he was five years old, he had decided to go by J.P. instead of James Percy, J.P. Armitage. He was very intelligent, Carmilla often marveled at his progress over his shoulder during school. He easily advanced through school, but Carmilla couldn’t help but notice how little friends he had. Sure, he was nice to everyone and everyone was nice to him, but he didn’t connect with anyone in a way more than an acquaintance would.

J.P. may have grown from being a toddler, but Carmilla still had her work cut out for her; when J.P. was absorbed in a book, he became completely oblivious to his surroundings, even when walking. On multiple occasions Carmilla had to trip J.P. so that he wasn’t run over by a carriage as he had his nose stuffed into a book. He often ran into groups of people and was knocked back onto his butt. When that happened he would get this shocked expression on his face, like he couldn’t believe the audacity of people, which made Carmilla laugh every time.

Sometimes, when J.P.’s parents were actually home, they would take him along with them in their travels or for business trips to prep him to take over his father’s business. In spite of not liking J.P.’s parents very much, Carmilla loved the times when she was able to travel and see the world, even if it made her job a little harder.

Once, they took a ship from England to Spain, which took a few days on the sea. They were going in order to discuss trading between J.P.’s father’s company and one from Spain. His parents had brought J.P. in order for him to get a taste of how to run the business before he went off to university. J.P.—and Carmilla—had never been to Spain before, so they were both very excited. Carmilla was intrigued by the history of everything and how quickly things seemed to change. When Carmilla had been shadowing Mattie, relations with Spain had been completely different than they were now.

J.P. seemed to be interested in everything; he was always on the deck of the ship, watching the sails being raised or watching the waves crash against the hull. In one terrifying moment, J.P. leaned too far over the railing and Carmilla had to grab the back of his jacket in order to make sure he didn’t go overboard. The business part of the business trip was extremely boring for both Carmilla and J.P.. He was interested in learning everything he could, but he didn’t want to take over a business; it would lower his opportunities to gain knowledge if he had to be focused on running a company.

Only a few years after the business trip to Spain, J.P. decided to go to school at a University in the newly formed Austria. He had explained to his father that it offered more opportunities to gain the knowledge that both he and his father wanted him to learn. Surprisingly, his father agreed, and then J.P. and Carmilla were on their way to Austria. The trip to Austria took two weeks, but once they entered the country, Carmilla was overcome with a familiarity that she couldn’t explain. She shook the feeling away as they arrived at Silas University.

J.P. excitedly unpacked his belongings into his room and organized his books for his classes as Carmilla sat gingerly on his bed. That is how most of the following weeks went; J.P. would go to his classes, Carmilla would learn with him, then he’d return to his dorm and work on something as Carmilla watched over from his bed. Occasionally J.P.’s roommate would be in the room, but they didn’t really talk to each other when J.P. was absorbed in his work. Carmilla was proud of the young man she’d watch grow up. She could feel it in her bones that he was going to be successful; he was going to be happy.

Until one morning a feeling of dread immediately fell upon Carmilla, tears streaming down her face. She had once asked Mattie when she would know that it was her person’s time and not another thing she should stop from happening. Mattie had told her that the morning her person’s time would come she would just feel it. Carmilla shook her head; J.P. was too young, he had too much that he wanted to achieve, that he was going to achieve. It couldn’t be his time yet, he wasn’t even sick. She must be mistaken—the feeling didn’t go away.

She kept a careful eye on J.P. the whole day, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary; he woke up, ate, and went to class. On his way back from his classes, he stopped at the library like he often did in order to get books for class or just for leisure. Carmilla trailed behind him as he perused the bookcases looking for just the right book he needed. Suddenly, the feeling of dread in the pit of Carmilla’s stomach spiked as she watched the bookcase J.P. was looking at slowly tilt forward and fall on top of him. Carmilla heard laughter and footsteps run in another direction but she was focused solely on J.P. under the fallen bookcase.

He could still be okay after this, Carmilla tried to reason with herself, people survived these sort of things all the time. Carmilla panicked when she realized it was after hours in the library, so there was a very large possibility it would be hours before someone could find him. She couldn’t go and get help either, that would mean leaving J.P. alone. She lay down on her stomach and looked at J.P.; he was trying to push the bookcase off of himself but it was way too heavy. It was crushing him to death. And Carmilla couldn’t do anything about it without breaking the rules and being punished. Carmilla cried as she watched J.P. struggle and call for help, never once taking her eyes off of him.

Soon, he had stopped struggling; he had realized that it was a waste of time.  His breathing became labored as one of his lungs was punctured by a broken rib. He was going to drown in his own blood.  It wasn’t fair, Carmilla wanted to shout. J.P. was a good person. He deserved to live a long life, he deserved to be happy. He didn’t deserve to be crushed under the weight of what he loved most.

As J.P. took his last, labored breaths, Carmilla reached out and gently grabbed his hand, making herself visible to him. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to protect you, you don’t have to worry J.P..” She smiled through her tears as she whispered, and felt him grip her hand back before it went limp.

The second J.P.’s hand hit the floor; Carmilla was suddenly in another house filled with the screams of a mother and newborn baby, her cheeks still wet with tears.   

 

For the first couple of months of Sarah Jane’s life, Carmilla was still mourning J.P.. She still did her job; found out she was in America, made sure to roll Sarah Jane over in her sleep when she could be suffocated by her pillow, made sure she didn’t choke on anything, but she was almost on auto-pilot. She couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair it was that some people would never reach their potential or their happiness because of some predetermined amount of time they had. And Carmilla just had to stand by and watch no matter what. She was actually surprised that she hadn’t gotten a visit from Maman after J.P. died, scolding her for showing herself to him. Maybe since it had been his time it didn’t matter.

After a while, thoughts of J.P. faded—they never went away, but they stayed in the back of her mind—as she watched once again all of a child’s firsts. She wasn’t sure if she liked Sarah Jane’s parents any more than she had liked J.P.’s. They were around more often, but they were already so focused on preparing Sarah Jane for the future that they didn’t see her as she was in the present. They didn’t see the amazing, four toothed smile; they saw the smile she was going to have to learn in order to get a husband. They didn’t see how her eyes lit up with every new person and thing she was shown; they saw how she was going to have to use her eyes and bat her eyelids at balls and parties to be alluring. Carmilla watched Sarah Jane’s parents plan her entire future away before Sarah Jane could even say her first word in order to have an input.

Watching after Sarah Jane was a lot like watching after J.P. in the early days, Carmilla discovered. She kept her from walking into things, from falling down the stairs when she decided to go exploring around her house. As Sarah Jane grew, so did her curiosity. She loved exploring the small garden in the back of her house, even though she knew he mother would yell after at her for getting her dress dirty every time. Her curiosity only increased when she learned how to read. She was taught to read and write by her nanny so she could learn to do the books at her parent’s store down the street since they didn’t have a son to rely on. Carmilla knew Sarah Jane was smart by how often she started sneaking into her dad’s study to take books from the shelves to read in her room.

She started to work in her parent’s shop when she was ten. It was just a general store, but it was the only one on her side of the town, so they were pretty busy every day.  She was rarely at the front of the store; that was her dad’s job or sometimes her mom’s. She was normally in the back taking inventory, which she really didn’t mind. Sometimes she would sneak books over to the store and hide them so she could read them during the day. Sarah Jane was not nearly as oblivious as J.P. had been, so Carmilla’s job became easier as Sarah Jane grew.

However, one day as Sarah Jane was reading on a box in the back room, one of the storage shelves which had been loose for quite a while started to fall over. J.P.’s death flashed before Carmilla’s eyes again and, in a panic, she quickly tipped the box Sarah Jane was sitting on backwards and away from the falling shelf. Sarah Jane’s father rushed in at all of the noise as Sarah Jane rubbed her elbow where she landed on it. Carmilla tried to calm her breathing as Sarah Jane’s father made sure she was okay before berating her about not paying more attention. She had to stay late that day and clean up all the items that had fallen, but Carmilla was just happy she didn’t have a repeat. She wouldn’t let that happen again.

Sarah Jane spent most of her adolescence at the store or reading, not really getting into too much trouble. Except for that one time a runaway horse almost trampled her, and it would have if Carmilla hadn’t spooked it into another direction. It wasn’t until she was seventeen that Sarah Jane brought up furthering her education to her father. They were in his study, he was doing finances for the store, Carmilla was watching from the corner of the room; she definitely believed that Sarah Jane could go far, she’d watched the girl practice her speech to her father to herself in the mirror hundreds of times. The real thing didn’t go like Sarah Jane had practiced. The second Sarah Jane brought up education; her father scoffed and interrupted her, telling Sarah Jane that she should be looking for a husband and not a school. Carmilla gritted her teeth and clenched her fist as anger flared up in her from an unknown source, as if she had heard something similar before.

Sarah Jane tried to get back to her rehearsed speech, but her father was having none of it. He stood and slammed his hands down onto his desk, announcing the finality of the conversation. Sarah Jane tried to interrupt her father and was swiftly back handed across her cheek. Carmilla surged forward, ready to intervene, but Sarah Jane just walked out of his study, hand on her cheek.

Sarah Jane changed after that day. Carmilla watched as she stuffed all of her books into a chest and placed it in the corner of her room to be covered with a spare blanket. She went out to parties, balls, and other social gatherings more, which wouldn’t worry Carmilla too much, if she wasn’t suddenly being so reckless. Her parents were happy with her, she was finally living the life they had planned for her when she was a baby, but Carmilla could see how miserable Sarah Jane was when she was alone (more or less) in her room. The bubbly persona she adopted in public would deflate, until all that was left was the tired young woman underneath. She looked more exhausted every day when she came back into her room. It went on for years.

It was one day when Sarah Jane was twenty-one that the same feeling of dread seized Carmilla as it had before. “It’s too soon…” Carmilla whispered to herself multiple times, shaking her head, as she waited for Sarah Jane to start her day, ignorant to what was going to happen. Her routine was the same, just as J.P.’s had been, but the entire family was going to a large party in the evening. Sarah Jane put on her favorite dress—it was a vibrant pink, much to Carmilla’s distaste—before they headed out to the party.

As soon as they reached the large, stately home where the party was taking place, Sarah Jane grabbed a flute of champagne. She milled about the party, Carmilla trailing behind her, and mingled with the other guests. She went through flute after flute of champagne; as soon as she emptied one she either grabbed another or immediately got her glass refilled. She was fairly tipsy when a young man approached her and asked her to dance. He was good looking enough, so she agreed. The champagne soothed all her tensions and she glided around the dance floor. Carmilla watched on, impressed at how effortless the dance seemed, from the side of the room.

Suddenly, Sarah Jane was being swept off the dance floor and up to one of the balconies of the house. Carmilla followed and awkwardly half-watched as the young man kissed Sarah Jane deeply. She was about to turn the other way, to give them some privacy when the dread in her stomach spiked, just like it had right before J.P. died. She turned quickly to see Sarah Jane trying to push the man away. She implored him to stop; she didn’t want to go any further, but he was kept trying to kiss her again. Sarah Jane flattened her hands against his chest and forcefully pushed the young man away from her. Carmilla had curled her hands into tight fists, her nails digging into her skin to stop herself from intervening, unable to help the unshed tears gathering in her eyes.

Sarah Jane again told the man that she was too drunk and that she hadn’t even wanted to come to the party in the first place. The man righted himself from her earlier push and told her in a cold, calculated voice that it was rude to push someone away who was showing you affection. He approached Sarah Jane quickly then, grabbing her arms right below her shoulder, shaking her while he walked her into the short railing on the balcony. Carmilla advanced further out onto the balcony, tears finally spilling onto her cheeks as she watch Sarah Jane get pushed into the balcony railing harder and harder as the man raised his voice, yelling things at her that Carmilla was no longer paying attention to.

Carmilla was only watching Sarah Jane’s face, which showed only her fear mixed with all the exhaustion she felt over the past couple of years crashing down onto her at once. A few tears spilled down Sarah Jane’s cheeks, as the man pushed too hard and she went over the balcony. She didn’t even have time to scream. 

Carmilla quickly launched herself off of the balcony, paying no attention to the man who ran, using her wings to land safely next to Sarah Jane and the puddle of blood rapidly growing around her. Her eyes were open but unfocused, and her breathing heavy and slow. Carmilla knelt next to her, not caring if she got her gown bloodied, and gently tilted Sarah Jane’s face toward her. “You’re going to be fine,” Carmilla whispered to Sarah Jane, nodding more to convince herself than the girl in front of her, “you’re finally going to be happy, Sarah Jane. You’re going to learn so much you won’t know what to do with all the knowledge.” (Carmilla had decided right after J.P. had died, to prepare what she was going to say to each person beforehand.) One of Carmilla’s tears fell onto Sarah Jane’s cheek and her mouth quirked up into a smile, her eyes shining like they had when she was a baby. Sarah Jane’s face went slack.

 

Carmilla backed away and became invisible just before the first screams happened as the party-goers saw the scene. Carmilla expected to be teleported to another room where a baby’s cries would ring in her ears, but that didn’t happen. She continued to watch as the guests crowded around Sarah Jane’s body, watched as her mother collapsed to the ground in tears and he father clenched his jaw. _Oh yeah_ , remembered Carmilla, _three people. It’s my break._ Carmilla felt numb as she spread her wings and returned to the garden where she had first met Maman.

Surprisingly, when she returned to the garden, Maman was actually there waiting for her, the same tight-lipped smile on her lips.

 “Carmilla.” Maman nodded her head at Carmilla as she spoke.

“Hello Maman,” Carmilla responded as she folded her wings in.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on finishing your first cycle, I see great potential in you. You deserve this break, so enjoy it. It’s only twenty five years.” Carmilla tried to keep out of mind that that was longer than both J.P. and Sarah Jane had lived. She smiled at Maman and nodded her agreement. Maman seemed satisfied and turned to leave but paused.

“Oh, one last thing Carmilla,” Maman said as she looked over her shoulder, her voice calculating, “getting attached is never a smart thing to do.” Seemingly satisfied, Maman left, leaving Carmilla to spend her break however she saw fit.

Carmilla mourned. She mourned and festered with indignation. Who could decide everyone’s time before even understanding each individual’s potential? Carmilla really wasn’t sure how much time she had spent in her own head before Mattie showed up.

“This is how you’re spending your break?” Carmilla startled at Mattie’s voice and grinned up at the woman; she had missed her. “Seriously Carmilla, how long have you just been sitting on this stone bench in this garden?” Carmilla shrugged. “Well I’m taking you out. Show you how to _actually_ enjoy your break.”      

And Carmilla had to admit, she did enjoy it. She and Mattie traveled far and wide, watching the world grow and change so rapidly it was hard to believe. It took her mind off of things and pushed her grief to the back of her head. Time passed quickly like that, and before Carmilla even realized, she was down to her last year of her break. She spent the last year of her break back around the gardens, relaxing and stretching out her wings. They had grown a lot since she first opened her eyes, but they still were only about half the size of Mattie’s. (Mattie had told her that once your wings become big enough for you to easily fly, they started to grow more slowly.) Carmilla often spent the nights with her wings out, the moonlight reflecting off of the white feathers, giving them an almost ethereal silver glow, as she watched the stars.

She didn’t know the exact date her break was over—she’d have to remember more carefully next time—but it was obvious enough. One moment she was sitting on a stone bench in the garden, and the next she was in a lavishly decorated room, a mother and child’s screams once again filling the space.

 

Carmilla knew Ell was special the minute she first opened her eyes being held in her mother’s arms. She hadn’t forgotten, but the familiarity of this moment had faded over Carmilla’s break. The realization that she’d once again watch a human grow, and achieve, and di—washed over her. A particular heaviness returned to its place in her heart, but it didn’t over shadow the hope she still held out, if anything it fueled it. Ell was going to be different.

Carmilla immediately liked Ell’s parents more than J.P. or Sarah Jane’s; they were a bit overprotective, but they cared and it was obvious. It made Carmilla’s job easier that Ell was already looked after on her own, but that didn’t stop Carmilla from feeling her obligation. She watched over Ell, making sure she was breathing okay during the night, making sure she was covered on particularly cold nights. She walked next to Ell during her first steps even though the nanny and her mother were there watching over her. When Ell cried at night she would nudge her little stuffed toy into her grasp, making sure to never make too big of a movement.

As soon as Ell became a toddler, Carmilla pinpointed what had first made her think Ell was special. She could effortlessly make everyone smile. Now that seemed to be a quality every toddler possessed, but Ell made them smile in a way other than the general reaction to seeing a young child. Carmilla swore she once even made the dog smile. Carmilla promised to the open air that she’d do everything she could to keep her smiling as long as possible.

Which is why Carmilla felt her world crash down alongside the six year old’s when her mother died suddenly of Tuberculosis. Ell cried hysterically for days, locked in her room, and Carmilla could do nothing but watch on in silence. After the third day of minimal food, red cheeks, swollen eyes, and runny noses, Carmilla couldn’t stand it anymore. That night, as Ell slept, curled up with one of her mother’s dresses, Carmilla plucked one of her feathers, wincing slightly. She gently laid the large, pure white feather on the pillow beside Ell’s head in hopes that if anything, it would take her mind off of her sadness for even a second. 

The next morning when Ell woke up, she picked up the feather and looked at it in awe. Carmilla smiled softly; it had done its job. Ell jumped out of bed and looked at the window of her room; it was still closed. She burst out of her room for the first time in days and ran to find her father to show him the beautiful feather that had appeared while she was asleep. Carmilla worried that she may have revealed too much as she went after Ell, finding her showing the feather to her father and explaining how it had just appeared. Her father took it from her gingerly, examining the feather with a small smile before handing it back to his daughter. He told her that it was a sign that her mother was happy and okay. Ell clutched the feather carefully to her chest her mouth open in awe.

Carmilla really had no idea that a single feather could do so much. She watched as Ell returned to her room and put Carmilla’s feather carefully on the desk in her room underneath her window. Ell’s father later commented that he’d have to get a case made to protect it. And so Carmilla’s feather became a sort of coping mechanism for Ell; whenever she had a rough day she would twirl it gently between her fingers and watch it spin.

The major difference between Ell and J.P. or Sarah Jane, was that Ell was a very social child instead of an academic one. Sure, she read, but more for pleasure than the pursuit of knowledge. She loved company, yet despite living in such a large home, she rarely had anyone to talk to other than her father or the servants. Sometimes her cousins would come for a couple of weeks or a summer, but Ell craved interaction. Not only interaction with other people; Ell loved interaction with nature as well and often went on long walks through the grounds of the manor.

Watching over Ell was extremely easy for Carmilla, she barely had to intervene. There were only a couple of times where Ell had accompanied her dad to one city or another throughout Austria that Carmilla had to step in. The traveled mostly by carriage through the city, (They once passed Silas University, still standing tall, and Carmilla felt nauseas.) but on a rare occasion they would walk. It was on one of the rare occasions that Carmilla noticed Ell falling a bit behind her father as she had been watching a man following them for quite some time from the corner of her eye. Carmilla, quick to be preemptive, hurried forward and, disguised by a group of people on the sidewalk, shouldered into Ell’s dad, before quickly dematerializing again. Her bump to Ell’s father turned him far enough so that he saw Ell trailing a bit too far behind him and ushered her forward so that she was staggered in front of him. Carmilla watched with a satisfied nod as the man who had been following Ell peeled off and turned in the other direction.

The years with Ell passed by quickly. She didn’t go off to school, she didn’t do anything reckless, and she didn’t have any drama. Ell made Carmilla’s job extremely easy, but all the idle time let Carmilla start thinking. Thinking about the past, what had happened, and what would inevitably happen again. Carmilla became determined to try everything she could to change the inevitable.

When Ell turned nineteen one of her favorite routines (which also quickly became Carmilla’s favorite routine), was to go out at night and watch the stars, Carmilla’s feather twirling between her fingertips. Carmilla would stand next to her and search the stars in silence. Sometimes Ell would talk to the stars, or to her mother, or to no one in particular just needing to let the words out into the universe. Carmilla thought that one of those nights was when she fell in love. It was a sudden realization, but at the same time it wasn’t sudden at all; in fact, it had been painstakingly slow.

In the beginning, of course, it was a different kind of love. But as of late, it was in the way that the first thing Ell would do in the morning was smile, and Carmilla felt compelled to smile along with her no matter what thoughts were bogging her mind up. It was in the way that the weight on Carmilla shoulders always seemed to lighten when she strolled along Ell who would quietly sing to herself. It was in the way that Carmilla constantly wanted to reveal herself just so that Ell could have someone on the receiving end of her open-ended conversations. It was in the way that Carmilla’s heart ached with a familiarity that she didn’t understand, didn’t know where it originated from.

Maman had warned her to not get attached, but that possibility had flown out the window the first time she heard a baby’s crying, just as it had the two times prior.

Carmilla’s heart stopped when the all too familiar foreboding feeling returned on the day of Ell’s twentieth birthday. It was always too soon. Too painful. Too unfair. Ell’s father planned to take her out to the city to buy her a new dress for her birthday. Carmilla panicked; there were so many variables. So many things that could go wrong. So many opportunities for that dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach to spike.

But Ell started her day like she always did, except with a bit more bounce in her step; it was her birthday after all. She talked happily with her father as they got ready to leave for the city, while Carmilla remained tense, ready to act on the promise she had made to herself when Ell was a baby. The carriage ride over to the city went off without a hitch, only a few rough bumps here or there in the road.

When they entered the city, the streets were filled with people because of a fair going on. Ell and her father were ignorant as they made their way through the crowds, Carmilla’s heart quickening every time someone bumped into the father and daughter duo. They finally made it through all the people to reach Ell’s favorite shop in order to get her dress without incident. Ell smiled at the tailor, who recognized the familiar face, and they immediately worked together to pick out the perfect dress for her. Normally, Carmilla would’ve looked through the dresses with them, thinking about what style dress she would look good in, or what she would switch to during her next break, but today she was too preoccupied with everything else going on around them.

It took a couple more hours before they were on their way, Ell gushing about how it had been her best birthday yet. Carmilla didn’t even relax slightly until they were in the carriage driving out of the city. Carmilla looked around the carriage cautiously; Ell was humming contentedly, looking out the window, while her father just read a newspaper with a smile on his face. Had Carmilla mistaken the feeling?

She relaxed into the cushions of the carriage a bit before the feeling she had written off spiked. Before Carmilla could even react, she watched as the carriage surged forward around her, Ell and Ell’s father launched from their seats. Carmilla could only watch as everything around her became displaced. It was Ell’s scream that brought Carmilla to action.

She quickly grabbed Ell just before her head crashed into the ground, not caring if she became visible. She didn’t notice her wings immediately turn black as she saved Ell, and let out a sigh of relief. She had prevented it; it wasn’t going to happen again. Not this soon.

Ell opened her eyes, which had been clenched shut, slowly, letting out a scream as she saw the black wings above her. She scrambled out of Carmilla’s arms and looked over her shoulder to see her father, neck bent at an unnatural angle.  Tears filled Ell’s eyes and Carmilla followed her gaze to see Ell’s father. She had been so preoccupied with saving Ell that she hadn’t even realized. By the time Carmilla looked back to Ell, she had crawled out of the wreckage, and Carmilla scrambled out after her.

“Ell, wait!” Carmilla reached forward to grab Ell’s hand, but as soon as her fingertips grazed Ell’s palm, Ell threw her arm violently as she turned to face Carmilla.

“Stay away from me you monster!” Carmilla’s arm immediately fell to her side and her brows furrowed in confusion and hurt. “You killed him!” Tears rolled down Ell’s cheeks. “…you killed him.”

“Ell, I didn’t—“ Carmilla paused and tried to think of a way to explain herself. Her eyes widened as she got an idea. “Look, Ell, don’t you recognize my feathers?” Carmilla outstretched her wings and looked at them, mouth dropping open in a silent ‘what?’ when she found them pitch black. Ell nodded at her question though.

“Those are the feathers of death.” Carmilla felt her heart drop, Ell thought her responsible for her father’s death, which maybe she was. She clutched her head with her hands, grabbing fistfuls of her hair, to keep herself from shaking. She had saved Ell, so why did it feel like she had still failed, why hadn’t the dread in her stomach gone away?

Ell turned to go find help, when she let out a gasp of awe. Carmilla looked up at the sound and her throat went dry. “Maman…” she rasped. Ell rushed toward Maman, telling her about her father and how she had run away from Carmilla, asking Maman to save her.  Maman just looked at Carmilla, disappointment on her face.

“I warned you not to get too attached, dear. She’ll never appreciate or understand what you just did for her, even if it was in vain.”  Ell looked confused for a moment before Maman reached forward and tapped her temple lightly. Carmilla watched as Ell dropped to the ground in a heap, lifeless. She didn’t register that she had dropped to her knees as Ell fell, eyes looking at her limp body that had held so much life, unblinking. Maman moved to stand above her, looking down at her with a slight shake of her head. “You have so much potential, but failure and disobedience isn’t something I can just let pass. You understand that, don’t you Carmilla? You’re a smart girl despite your infractions.”

Carmilla nodded slowly, eyes not leaving Ell’s body. Everything was muddled; sights, sounds, actions. The only thing Carmilla could focus on was her thoughts. She had failed. Again. She had broken the promise to herself. She didn’t even register her head nodding to what Maman was telling her; she didn’t notice herself being dragged away until Ell’s body wasn’t in front of her anymore.

 

She blinked and took in her new surroundings. The room she was in was bare except for a couple of chains on the floor, one of which was locked around her ankle. She pulled against the chain, but it wouldn’t budge. When she looked up again, Maman stood in the door way, hands clasped behind her back.

“Maman,” Carmilla began, “…what happened to my wings?” She spread her wings out, motioning to the black feathers.

 “It happened the moment you went against my wishes. Normally, I would have to…let you go, if that were to happen, but I’m a forgiving woman so I’m giving you a second chance. It doesn’t excuse you from your punishment, of course, but I hope you’ll see that I’m only punishing you because I want you to reach your full potential in the future. I’m doing all of this for your benefit.” Her eyes had a certain glint to them that Carmilla did not trust at all. Carmilla felt like a rock was stuck in her throat.

“What…what’s my punishment?” Carmilla managed to choke out.

“Well,” Maman walked forward, her steps precise and never out of line, “it will come in parts.”

Two men walked in behind Maman, and stopped on either side of Carmilla. She quickly tried to pull her wings in to protect them, feeling threatened, but the men grabbed her wings, pulled, and held them at their full span. Carmilla cried out at the pain shooting up her back. Maman walked forward again, pulling her hands from behind her back to reveal the large shears she had been holding in them. “You won’t need them for a while.” Another man walked up beside Maman and took the shears as she extended them to him. He went to Carmilla’s right wing and immediately started clipping the feathers, Carmilla wincing every time she heard the shink of the shears closing.

As Carmilla was forced to hear her wings getting clipped, Maman outstretched hers as far as she could in the small room. “It’s a shame; really, white is such a beautiful color for feathers to be, so pure. Wouldn’t you agree?” Carmilla set her jaw and nodded, not wanting to anger Maman any further, as the man with the shears walked around and started on her other wing. It didn’t take long for him to finish and leave, the two holding her wings let go and followed. As soon as her wings were freed, Carmilla quickly brought them in, examining the choppy job the man had done. Her feathers were cut at different angles and different lengths, the sight made her want to cry. It was like Maman knew how much her feathers, especially the one that had meant so much to Ell, had come to mean to her.

Maman folded her wings in and approached Carmilla. She cradled Carmilla’s face in her hands as she whispered, “I do hope you learn from this.” Carmilla opened her mouth to ask Maman what else her punishment entailed when she touch Carmilla’s forehead and everything went black.

 

When Carmilla opened her eyes again she was in a bed that felt entirely too familiar. She sat up and stretched her arms, yawning. Sliding out of bed, she made her way over to her mirror, getting a good look at herself in the mirror. She was in her simple underclothes that she always wore to bed. She turned to the side and looked at her back in the mirror, reaching behind to touch it.

“What a strange dream. To have wings.” A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts; she jumped slightly.

“Lady Karnstein,” was called through the door. Carmilla quickly opened the door, letting the blonde servant in.

“Please Elsabeth, I’m not my mother. I’ve told you many times to just call me Carm-,” she shook her head, “Mircalla; sorry, I must still be half asleep.” Elsabeth—Elsie, as she went by more commonly, just smiled endearingly.

“Come now,” Elsie shooed Mircalla toward her wardrobe, “you must get dressed.”

“Must I?” Mircalla drawled, “I could think of better things to do.”

Elsie shot her a glare, even though her face had turned completely red. “Yes, you must. And don’t be so loud. Who knows what you parents would do.” Elsie rummaged through the wardrobe and grabbed one of Mircalla’s favorite dresses, a lovely dark-blue gown, before helping her get into it. Elsie fiddled with the front, before Mircalla took her hands between hers.

“I would never let them harm you, you know that right?” Elsie sighed and pulled her hands away.

“It isn’t me I’m worried about.” She left Mircalla after that to tend to something else in the manor.

Mircalla left her room soon after and joined her parents for breakfast. Except, they weren’t eating or arguing like they usually did over a meal. They were waiting for her, seated on the same side of the table, which never happened, even on rare occasions. She immediately knew something was off.

“Father, Mother, what’s wrong?” Mircalla remained standing in the dining room, facing her parents. Her father stood, while her mother simply stared down at the table.

“Some of your…deviances have come to our attention as of late. You cannot be behaving in such ways Mircalla. We asked for advice and were told ways of how you could be cured. You want that, don’t you Mircalla?”

Mircalla shook her head. “Father, there is nothing wrong with me, you haven’t been told the truth I,”

“Lies!” Her father interrupted, slamming his hand down onto the table, Mircalla flinching as he does. He strode forward and grabbed Mircalla by the arm, her body tensed; it had been in this position enough times to know that nothing good would come from this. He dragged her outside and down toward the river at the edge of the manor. Her mother did nothing to stop him.

When they reached the river, he bound her hands together and then tied a rope around her waist. “You must be cleansed of your wickedness before the devil grabs hold of you entirely and makes you his servant.” Mircalla tried to protest, tried to talk reason into her father, but he just pushed her into the river, the rope he held the only thing tethering her to land.

Her dress immediately soaked through and became 20 pounds heavier, weighing her down and pulling her under the water. Her lungs strained with pressure and burned with a need for oxygen; she hadn’t been able to take a deep breath before being pushed into the river. Her head was pounding, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything. She thrashed around, trying to loosen the binding around her wrists, but they didn’t budge. Her mouth had fallen open while she thrashed and water filled her mouth and nose. The pounding had turned into a hum and everything started to fade away. Mircalla’s life flashed before her eyes.

She didn’t see much, at least, not much to want to continue living for. She saw every time she had been locked in the closet. She saw every time her father’s hand had stricken across her cheek. She saw the time she had been punished by being left out in the snow for the night. She saw nothing but pain. She had _felt_ nothing but pain. She wanted it to stop. All of it. She had deserved to be happy. She had deserv—nothingness. Mircalla was gone. Her father never pulled her out. She had drowned in her favorite dress.

Carmilla bolted awake, gasping for air in a bed all too familiar. She pressed her hand against her heart just to feel it beating. What a terrifying dream. A knock on her door gained her attention. “Lady Karnstein,” Elsie called through the door. Carmilla sighed and went to open it.

“You know I want you to call me Mircalla, I’m not my mother.” Elsie simply smiled and nodded, walking over to the wardrobe. She picked out Mircalla’s favorite dress and held it out to her. Mircalla ran her fingers through the fabric, her dream already having slipped from her mind, but a feeling sadness overcame her at the sight of the dress. She shook her head and put the dress on with the help of Elsie, getting ready for the day.

And it continued on like that. Every day Carmilla would wake up only to be drowned in her favorite dress. She felt the pain of it every single time, only to have it be written off as a dream when she woke again. She didn’t know how many times she relived her death, had no way of actually counting since the memories always faded right after she woke, but the feelings of uneasiness and foreboding always stayed.

It was only until her dress weighed her down further than usual and she seemed to maintain consciousness for longer, that the pain and memories of every single time before her came back. 25,549 times. She had died 25,549 times before, but, God, the 25,550th time was the worst. It didn’t seem to end; her lungs burned, her head throbbed, and her chest constricted with all the pain of the previous times, but she wasn’t losing consciousness. She should’ve passed out minutes ago, but water just kept pushing its way down her throat and into her lungs. She just continued sinking down toward the riverbed.

 

It wasn’t until her feet touched the sandy bottom of the river that Carmilla shot up with a gasp. She leaned over to the side and immediately started retching; her lungs still felt like they were filled with water but nothing came out. Her hands were splayed out in front of her and it was only when she looked at them that she wasn’t in her room anymore—no. That hadn’t been her room. That hadn’t been _Carmilla’s_ room. That had been _Mircalla’s_ room. No, Carmilla was still in the room that Maman had left her in however long ago that was.

Carmilla shakily sat back against the wall, chained leg stretched out in front of her with the other tucked underneath it. She rolled her head to the side to look around the small, dark room. She assumed her eyes had adjusted over time since she had no problems looking around the space. The entire room was coated with a layer of her clipped and broken feathers; her wings had molted, several times if the amount of feathers around was any indication of that. They must have clipped her wings multiple times while she was…

Carmilla let out a shaky, uneven breath. Was that who she had been? Mircalla. Was that what her life had been like from _before_? Had that been how she died? Had she felt the same way Carmilla did each time? Carmilla remembered everything now. She remembered her _before_. Had Maman meant for that to happen?

Carmilla let her head drop to her side in exhaustion, peeking at her wings. They looked almost whole again, but they were disorderly and hadn’t seemed to grow at all during her internment. She reached out to run her fingers along her feathers, but became alarmed at how thin her arms had become. It wasn’t like she had needed to eat before she had been put in the room, why did it seem like she had been starved?   

As Carmilla prodded her arm with her other hand, light suddenly poured into the room. Carmilla winced and snapped her eyes shut, tears still trickling out from the sheer intensity of the light in comparison to the darkness she had been stuck in.

“Wonderful, you’re up.” That was Maman. Carmilla tried to open her eyes again, but couldn’t just yet. “William, unchain her please.” William. That was a name she hadn’t heard before. She guessed he was her replacement for the time she was chained up. She heard footsteps shuffle toward her and the metal cuff around her ankle fell away. The shuffling foots steps retreated backward and sharp, precise footsteps replaced them. Maman. “I must say, Carmilla dear, you have impeccable timing. There’s a bit of a spat happening _down there_ and we need every person we can get. I do hope you’ve learned your lesson. We’ve been down a person for seventy years and it’s been hard on everyone.” Carmilla clenched her jaw. All she heard from the string of sentence was seventy years. She had been stuck in that room for seventy years. “Anyway, please come out and join us when you will and I’ll give you your next assignment.” Carmilla listened to the footsteps leave the room, but the door remained open.

Slowly, she opened her eyes; they watered a bit, but she strained to keep them open. Taking a deep breath, Carmilla planted her hands on either side of her, brought her legs in to bend her knees, and braced her back against the wall. She slowly started to push herself up. The first time her feet slid out from under her and she crashed back down against the floor. The second time she tried, she managed to stay upright despite her whole body shaking. She pulled her wings into herself and winced, every part of her body was sore.

Not trusting herself to walk on her own just yet, she used the wall of the room to help as she made her way around to the door. When she exited the room, she stumbled into the gardens she had spent so much time in. Carmilla made her way to a bench where she sat down, body worn out. She stared off into the garden, becoming caught up in her head, replaying all the events Maman had put her through.

The footsteps coming toward her didn’t even register with all the things flying through her head. “Oh little fledgling, you always were so sentimental.” Carmilla looked up at Mattie as she spoke. “Come on, you look a fright, and fashion has changed. I don’t want you going back out there looking like a great-grandmother.” Mattie outstretched her hand for Carmilla to take, which she did after a beat of silence. Mattie pulled Carmilla to her feet and said nothing as she supported Carmilla’s weight as they walked.

When Mattie finally stood Carmilla in front of a mirror, she couldn’t recognize herself. Her cheeks and eyes seemed sunken in, her face sharper. Her arms and legs were twigs; she assumed that was from simple lack of use. Mattie helped her out of her elaborate gown and handed her a light and incredibly short dress in comparison to her previous one; she didn’t care though, she needed a change. Carmilla donned the dress and felt a little lighter, almost as if she had shed a little bit of what had happened. Of course, it did nothing to lessen the weight of her thoughts or the heaviness she felt in her heart.

Mattie gently patted Carmilla’s shoulders. “There we go. All ready to get back out there. You know, with the different colored wings, you can pull off so many new colors.” Carmilla simply ran her hands down the length of the dress and watched her reflection. “Hey,” Carmilla looked up and locked eyes with Mattie in her reflection. “Don’t collapse under the weight she’s forced upon you.” After a short pause, Carmilla nodded and Mattie gave her a curt nod back. “Good.”

Before Carmilla faced Maman again, she steeled her face, not showing any of the emotions she felt. She walked up to Maman, face blank, not betraying any of her thoughts. There was a young man standing next to her; Carmilla had to stop herself from showing the surprise and heartache that she felt. The young man looked exactly like J.P., but with shorter hair. Carmilla looked back to Maman who had a knowing smile on her face. She had done this on purpose, but Carmilla wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“I’m ready for my next assignment.” Maman nodded.

“Oh, before you go. Carmilla, this is William, he’s only just recently joined us. He’s going to go out on assignment with Mattie soon.” Carmilla turned and looked into the face of the first person she ever failed.

“Good luck, kid. I’m sure you’ll be okay.” Will’s brows furrowed in thought as she said the words and her breath hitched at the possibility that some part of Will, the part that was still J.P., remembered deep down what she had told him before he died.

Before Will could question her about anything, Carmilla was suddenly in another room, a hospital room she came to realize, filled with the cries of a baby, but the baby’s cries were by far the quietest thing around. Groans of pain from wounded men came from every neighboring room, and Carmilla figured out very quickly that a great war was going on around her.

That baby didn’t even live long enough to be named. The hospital was bombed the morning after it was born.

The baby after, a boy named Koji, lived to three months old. Carmilla barely had time to adjust before the rug was pulled out beneath her and she was forced to relocate again. Maybe it was better that way; she wouldn’t get attached (she knew it wouldn’t work, the unnamed child and Koji both joining the list of lives she felt responsible for).

 

Everything seemed to start to blend together for Carmilla after that. When one war ended, another seemed to start right after, sometimes there were multiple wars going on at once in different parts of the world. Carmilla’s third child only lived until she was five, and Carmilla found that she had no words to tell her that wouldn’t sound like lies.  How could Carmilla tell the girl that everything was okay, when it was so obvious by everything surrounding her that it wasn’t? (Carmilla lied to her.)

Carmilla’s break that time was quicker, apparently your time off was dictated by the length of the lives of the people you looked after. It seemed that before Carmilla could even take a breath; she was back _down there_ , a new person to keep under her wing.

And that’s how it continued. Carmilla went through the motions of the lives of each person she was assigned, but they were always gone way too soon, so she put up walls. She hardened herself so as to not get crushed under all the guilt she felt on a day to day basis. She started to wonder if it was a punishment of some sort for her; that everyone she looked after never made it past twenty-one years old. There was Natalie, who lived until she was nineteen and overdosed at a party she went to while trying some drug that was promised to be the next big thing. Carmilla didn’t have anything to say anymore, talking to them would only put cracks in the walls she was building. She started to make a conscious effort to not get attached in the hopes that it would lessen the weight she constantly felt on her shoulders and her heart. She told herself it was working—it wasn’t.

A baby boy, John, fell to SIDS when he was only a few weeks old.

Eric made it to fourth grade. It was some type of cancer. Carmilla thought that she had heard Leukemia from the doctor when Eric and his parents had found out. She wasn’t sure what was worse; watching someone she was tasked with protecting die in front of her, knowing she could stop it, or watching someone she was tasked with protecting die in front of her, knowing she couldn’t do anything at all to help. Either way, she didn’t let it outwardly show anymore, constantly worried that Maman was watching.

Her break hardly registered with her, but she made it back to the garden, sitting on her stone bench, eyes unfocused, looking at the ground. Footsteps approached her, but she paid them no mind until a familiar voice spoke, “Carmilla, darling.”

She lifted her head slowly, focusing her gaze on the woman before her. “Yes Maman?”

“I just wanted to let you know how much better you’re doing. It’s wonderful that you finally took my advice to avoid being sentimental. I wouldn’t have wanted to have you out of commission yet again.”

“Of course.”

Maman smiled her sickly sweet smile and patted Carmilla on the cheek. “I see great things ahead for you, my diamond girl.” Carmilla wondered if Maman calling her a diamond was supposed to be ironic since she had already been broken over and over again. Carmilla simply nodded, appeasing Maman enough for her to leave the garden.

Her next visitor didn’t even need to announce themselves. As soon as Carmilla got a glimpse of the familiar wings, she jumped up into Mattie’s arms. Mattie, if shocked, didn’t show it and simply wrapped her arms back around Carmilla. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mattie.” Carmilla whispered out against Mattie’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid you have to, fledgling.” Mattie whispered back before pulling away, her voice getting louder. “Now, let’s go shopping. Fashion changes more quickly now-a-days than when you first started.” Mattie quickly whisked Carmilla away to some fashion capital to decide what it was she’d change her style to.

It was only when they were standing next to each other at some fashion show in Milan that Mattie leaned over to speak to her again. “You’d have to give up your wings. It would be a painful process, and you’d never be welcomed back. No one has ever done it while I’ve been a guardian, but Maman has told me stories. They aren’t pretty, but it can be done. I’ve never heard about what happens afterward though.” Carmilla leaned toward Mattie, taking in every single word that she said, not letting all the hope that surged within her show.

She spent most of her break spending time with Mattie, who never really seemed to have a schedule. When Carmilla had asked her about that, she simply shrugged and said, “Elder privilege.” with a smirk. Really, she just wanted to avoid Maman at all costs, which turned out to not be that challenging since she was dealing with one thing or another at nearly all times. Toward the end of her break, Carmilla had walked by J.—Will. He looked exhausted, but not unhappy. She wondered if she had looked like that after her first cycle. (She knew she hadn’t; the memories of J.P. and Sarah Jane niggling at the back of her mind). She didn’t say anything to him, just nodded her head in acknowledgment as they crossed paths. Will hesitated when he saw her, looking like he wanted to say something, before shaking his head and continuing to walk.

 

And then, Carmilla’s break was over, thankfully without another visit from Maman. Carmilla looked around the hospital room; some of the equipment had changed since she had last been in one. After a once over of the room, she focused on the screaming bundle being held in a woman’s arms. _Huh_ , Carmilla thought. She had never had a red head before. Said red-headed bundle was promptly named Susan Lafontaine by her parents.

Carmilla spent most of her time while watching the little ginger reinforcing her walls and barriers, but as soon as Susan began to crawl, Carmilla found her time occupied. Susan, or Laffy Taffy, as she was often called by her parents got into trouble constantly, whether it was almost crawling down the stairs, or opening the cabinet under the sink and trying to open up the chemicals. It only got more hectic as she learned to walk. Her parents had to double child lock all of the cabinets and doors.

When she turned five, the Lafontaines had to move houses because Susan’s father got a job at a different research lab. They moved into a nice suburban neighborhood, from what Carmilla could tell, and immediately settled in. The day they moved in, one of the neighbor children, a curly red-headed girl (seriously, had there been a surge of red heads in the past 15 years?) introduced herself as Lola Perry. That was when Carmilla essentially became responsible for two lives.

Susan and Lola quickly became inseparable to the point where Carmilla saw Lola almost as much as she saw Susan, which was literally every second of the day. Susan was a very curious child, always bringing Lola over or taking her somewhere in order to investigate or research something or other. Some of their investigations, Carmilla just had to scoff and roll her eyes at, they were pretty ridiculous.

 

Life went on like that; Susan and Lola spent every day together, even when school started to come along. Carmilla occasionally stepped in to prevent Susan from setting the house on fire or doing anything too dangerous—seriously, the kid had a strange fixation on fire. Apart from each other, the two gingers weren’t really that close with anyone else. Lola was nice to everyone, sort of like a miniature mom, but from what Carmilla had heard from their conversations, they really only had each other as close friends.

When they were in the same class in 5th grade, there was another girl named Lola in their class. In order to prevent confusion, Lola offered to go by Perry and it just sort of stuck. She quickly become known as Perry to everyone around her.

Middle school was a rough time; Carmilla cringed, thinking about what would happen if she had to go through it herself. The only bright side she could find in it would be the technology they had now. The first time Susan had gotten a cell phone, Carmilla hovered over her shoulder for hours, marveling at the small device. Other than the technology, middle school seemed to be hell on earth. Carmilla hated the times when she would have to lean against the lockers and wait for Perry to come and get Susan out of the one she had been pushed into.

Going into high school, Susan cut nearly all her hair off. Carmilla had witnessed the decision happen as Susan talked to herself in the mirror for hours, finally telling herself with finality, “I don’t want to be Susan anymore.”

They chose to go by Lafontaine instead, taking a page out of Perry’s book from so many years ago. In the beginning, Carmilla was the only one who knew, not that LaF knew she knew of course. Then they told their parents, who just hugged them and told them they’d always be their Laffy Taffy, to which LaF gagged and Carmilla snickered. (She wasn’t attached. You didn’t have to be attached to find the nickname amusing.)

When they told Perry, she had had a rough time adjusting that resulted in a two week period where the two gingers weren’t talking. LaF was miserable, Carmilla was miserable; it was just an overall miserable two weeks. Carmilla felt like a miracle had happened when Perry came over and they talked to each other—not that she had been worried.

Things went back to normal after that, Perry and LaF becoming busy with high school, Carmilla keeping LaF from setting things on fire, or blowing anything up in Chemistry. She looked the other way in Biology most of the time though because LaF just got way too involved in a dissection. It wasn’t until they were seventeen that Carmilla noticed how twitchy they got whenever Perry was around. They were always talking to themselves under their breath and running their hand through their hair. One night before Perry was going to sleep over; they seemed to give themselves a pep talk in the mirror, which Carmilla found to be very amusing.

When Perry came they immediately went up to LaF’s room where they began talking about anything and everything. Carmilla tuned in and out of the conversations, listening when something interested her, ignoring whenever school came up. It was well into the night, LaF and Perry had moved to lying down next to each other on LaF’s bed, facing the ceiling, after having watched a couple of movies, none of which kept Carmilla’s interest. Carmilla stood by the window, leaning against the wall.

“Hey Perr?” LaF whispered. Carmilla turned her head to look at them.

“Yeah, sweetie?” Perry answered, she really had grown into the miniature mom that Carmilla had labelled her as when she was a child. LaF took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, LaF.” Perry answered almost immediately with an amused smile.

“No. You don’t get it—I _love_ you. I want to hold your hand all the time and kiss you and make you feel safe and stuff.” Perry was silent, but Carmilla’s thoughts were loud enough to wake the neighbors. She thought of Elsie from so long ago, the memories making her heart and head ache. She thought of Ell, who all she wanted to do with was hold hands and protect. A sense of relief washed over her. The feelings that she had always had were valid, her father had been wrong. She had died in vain. Carmilla was so caught up in the past; she almost missed Perry’s answer.

Perry laced her fingers through LaF’s and brought their hand up to her mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of their hand. “I _love_ you too.” Carmilla looked out the window and up at the stars, her mind taking her back to all the nights she spent stargazing lying next to Ell.

Perry and LaF succeeded in hiding their new found relationship for almost a week, but Perry hated lying, so they told both of their parents. Their parents seemed happy; Carmilla deliberately did not take interest in the parents’ reactions. They didn’t tell anyone from school, because they were both planning to leave for college anyway and why waste the time and energy. Carmilla agreed.

 

In the blink of an eye, LaF was walking across the stage to get their diploma; spending every waking (and sometimes sleeping) second with Perry, and then packing up their things to head off to college. Thankfully, both LaF and Perry were accepted into the same college that they wanted to go to; Carmilla did not want to see that sob fest that would’ve ensued if they hadn’t. LaF wasn’t really that emotional of a person, but bring Perry into the equation and Carmilla definitely noticed some changes. A small part of Carmilla worried at how old LaF was getting and what that had previously meant, but that small part had been greatly repressed over the years.

The three of them arrived at Silas University without a problem, but Carmilla had to keep herself from cursing everything. There must have been some sort of magnetization of this place that had Carmilla returning to it again and again. Carmilla kept most of the memories at bay, but her mood upon returning had greatly soured. LaF and Perry seemed to be excited though as they moved into their dorm room.

Classes quickly started and things became hectic, time passing quickly as Carmilla went with LaF to their classes and tried not to pay attention to the dissections. They wanted to become a Biology major, Carmilla preferred less hands on studies. In spite of her seemingly laid back exterior, internally, Carmilla wondered when it was _that day_ was going to come. It didn’t though.

Their first and second semesters passed without incident. They were enjoying their studies and they were happy with Perry. In their third semester, Carmilla had to keep them from drunkenly entering the lab once to do god knows what, but Perry ended up scolding them for it when she walked them back to their dorm. Their fourth semester they became bogged down by work, Carmilla becoming confined on most days to four walls. Their fifth semester they turned twenty-one, and Carmilla found herself unconsciously letting out a breath of relief when she didn’t feel dread the morning of their birthday. That semester Perry decided to become a Floor Don, so she’d be living in the dorms with freshman in order to help their transition into college. LaFontaine made the move with her, because why not.

That’s how LaF, and by extension, Carmilla, found themselves being dragged around by Perry to meet all of the freshmen on their floor. Carmilla felt relieved to be invisible for once since she didn’t have to pretend to enjoy the experience like LaF did. Carmilla normally didn’t notice many people around her except the one person she was tasked with—Perry being an exception of course because she and LaF had practically been attached at the hip since they were five. She would scan each of the freshmen that Perry took LaF to as they introduced themselves, but they were all pretty boring.

It wasn’t until they reached the last room on the floor, room 307, that Carmilla found her attention grabbed. Carmilla hadn’t thought of what Mattie had told her more than twenty years ago until the moment she walked into that room. Carmilla had never really noticed another person who she wasn’t obligated to protect as much as she had noticed the girl standing in front of her—well, she wasn’t really there to her, so in front of LaF and Perry. Perry immediately started chatting with the girl as if they’d been friends for years and LaF cleared their throat to introduce themselves.

“’Sup, Frosh. I’m LaFontaine. Bio Major. They/Them pronouns.” Carmilla listened to LaF’s introduction for the fourteenth time in the past hour, but this time she sort of wanted to know the response. LaF outstretched their hand and the small, brunette girl, shook it with a smile.

“Hey! I’m Laura. Prospective journalist. She/her.” LaF grinned at her response; most of the other freshmen had just mumbled out their name before going back to worrying about something.

“I like this one.” LaF nodded at Laura, who laughed. Carmilla just leaned against the doorway and said the girl’s name to herself. LaF wasn’t the only one.

After that day, Perry, LaF, and Laura became friends, which meant that Carmilla saw her almost on a daily basis. Either they would all barge into Laura’s room unannounced, which Carmilla hated doing, or she would show up in Perry’s room, normally in the need of advice or just a break from her work. Carmilla found every moment with Laura in the room to be like a breath of fresh air. She would laugh or ramble or even just smile and Carmilla’s worries about LaF’s time or the past would go away.

If there’s one thing that Carmilla learned by being around Laura often was that she was incredibly stubborn and driven. Once she caught wind of a story, she ran with it. That’s how she, Perry, LaF, by extension Carmilla, and a couple of others ended up uncovering some kidnappers on the Campus who had been taking girls. They stupidly went themselves, instead of notifying campus security, and took down the kidnappers themselves. Carmilla couldn’t have helped then without completely revealing herself, so she was stuck watching as LaF took a bit of a beating. Laura took one as well, which might have been even worse because Carmilla couldn’t help Laura at all without getting in serious trouble. It was her job to save LaF if anything went wrong before their time, but not Laura. It could be her time and Carmilla would never know until it happened.

Thankfully, it didn’t end up being her time. They stopped the kidnappers, helped the girls, and became heroes on the campus for a bit. In spite of her having next to no role in the entire event, Carmilla still felt affected by it. It made her think hard about what Mattie had told her at the fashion show and actually consider it. She got no satisfaction out of what she was doing like the others seemed to. She could only focus on the deaths. They bore down on her mind not allowing her to take solace in the life each person lived—not many of them had much to take solace in in the first place. She wanted to decide who she would and wouldn’t protect and when it was she was going to protect them.

She had made her decision one night as LaF and Perry slept, staring up at the stars spanning across the night sky. Even if she had made her decision, it still had taken her weeks to work up the courage to go through with everything.

Finally, strengthening her resolve, she flew out of the dorm room while LaF and Perry slept, a night very similar to when she had first made the decision, and out onto the Campus green. She clenched her fist before tilting her head to the sky. She quietly, but with resolve, talked to the sky, “I’m done.”

She heard the flapping of wings behind her, but didn’t even turn around. “Darling, what is this nonsense about? You’re done? You can’t be done, not unless I say you are.” There was a warning undertone to Maman’s voice. Carmilla shook her head.

“I’ve heard the stories, Maman. I’m done. I’m done with being told who to save and when or when not to save them.” Carmilla could just imagine the look on her face right now, but she didn’t dare turn around, knowing that her resolve would crumble into pieces. Maman walked closer.

“It would be such a waste. You’d be throwing away everything I ever did for you. Throwing away all that potential that I did everything I could to cultivate from you.” Carmilla shook with a rage that had been building inside of her for so many years.

“Everything you ever did for me?” Carmilla spit out. “Like what? Chain me up? Take away my freedom? Make me relieve my death over and over again? Make me remember _before_? Or no, was it when you killed the only girl I had ever managed to save right in front of me?” Carmilla knew that there were tears running down her cheeks but she refused to acknowledge them. She immediately felt a shift in the woman behind her.

“I let your silly mistakes slip by. I gave you a second chance. I gave you life again! I have been nothing but patient with you, Carmilla, but you seem to like testing me.” Carmilla scoffed. “Do you even know what you’re getting into? You’d ruin your beautiful wings.”

Carmilla finally turned to face Maman, what she had said striking a chord in Carmilla. “They haven’t been beautiful to me for 143 years. Not since you changed them.” Maman’s face soured, her entire demeanor changing.

“I will never welcome you back again.”

“Good. The only death I ever want to witness again is my own.”

Maman just shook her head, a look of disgust on her face, “Such a disappointment.” She stepped forward and plucked off the first of Carmilla’s feathers. She flicked the feather away with a sneer before giving a powerful flap of her wings and disappearing into the night sky. Carmilla let out a shaky breath as she watched Maman leave, a wave of tension rolling out of her.

As soon as she was out of sight, Carmilla reached around her wings and plucked a feather, wincing as she does. Carmilla let the feather drop, watching the black plumage land on top of the grass. She reached back up and plucked another, wincing yet again at the shot of pain that went through her. She continued the process, plucking her wings, feather by feather, the pain getting increasingly worse as she got closer to the top of her wings. She tried not to acknowledge it, but the tears streaming steadily down her face made it hard not to.

At one point she just started taking handfuls; doing anything she could to speed up the agonizing process. Finally, after hours of pain and plucking, she pulled the last feather, letting it drop onto the large pile of black feathers that had accumulated around her. With shaking hands, Carmilla reached around and grasped the remainder of her wings. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before she felt hands cover her own. She looked over her shoulder at the owner of the hands.

“Mattie.” Carmilla’s voice was small and tired, but filled with relief at the appearance of the other woman.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to pick a few things up.” Mattie moved Carmilla’s hands off of her wings as she walked around to face Carmilla. “Here, I figured you might need some of these. You always did get attached.” She placed a duffel bag in Carmilla’s hands and Carmilla slowly started to go through it. A change of clothes, a _lot_ of money, forged identification, and a paper showing her transfer to Silas University. Carmilla bit her lip in order to keep herself from crying anymore than she already had that night.

“Mattie…”

Mattie cut Carmilla off. “Your clothes are already out of style and I figured why not get the other things while I was out.” She waved it off as nothing, but couldn’t help but smile as Carmilla wrapped her in a hug. Carmilla couldn’t believe that Mattie had basically set her up for a life, for a chance.

“Thank you.” Mattie returned the hug gently as Carmilla whispered the words against her shoulder. After a minute, they separated and Mattie walked around back to Carmilla’s wings.

“This is going to hurt, fledgling, but I’ll at least be able to do it cleanly and quickly, as opposed to what would happen if you tried to do this in your state.” Carmilla took a deep breath and nodded as Mattie placed her hands on the remaining pieces of Carmilla’s wings, one hand on each side. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” Mattie asked once more and Carmilla nodded.

Mattie wasted no time in gripping the wings, and with all her might, tearing them from Carmilla’s back. Carmilla couldn’t contain the scream that exited her mouth at the pain that rolled through her. It exploded from her back and spread over every part of her being. She collapsed into the feathers around her, only keeping herself up on her hands and knees. Her throat was raw from the scream. She focused on breathing—in and out, in and out—trying to get a handle on the pain. She stayed like that for what felt like hours, flinching when a hand touched her shoulder.

“I don’t think the pain is going to go away any time soon, Carmilla.” She felt something being put onto her back, soothing the two wounds she knew were there, and then some sort of pad was being applied. “I’m gonna need you to stand up now, Carm.” Mattie said gently, tugging a bit at Carmilla’s arm. She slowly stood, every muscle in her protesting the effort, but Mattie helped her when she stood tall enough and gave her support as she lifted her shirt in order to wrap gauze around her back and front. When that was finished, Mattie just stood there for a bit, supporting Carmilla, until the sun started to rise.

“I have to go now, fledgling, and so do you. Go to the office of admissions and everything should be set up. Just know that if you ever need something, I’ll be watching, no matter what Maman might do.” Carmilla stood silently, taking everything that had just happened in. Mattie moved away from Carmilla and she swayed a bit at the lack of support. Carmilla watched Mattie as she opened her wings—the ache in Carmilla’s back seemed to surge—and looked toward her one more time. “Good luck, little fledgling.” She told Carmilla with a wink, repeating the phrase she had told Carmilla all those years ago before she had gotten her first person. She flapped her wings powerfully, stirring the pile of feathers around Carmilla, and disappeared.

 

As soon as Mattie was gone from her view, Carmilla fell to her knees among her old feathers. She gingerly picked a couple of them up and placed them in her duffel bag. On shaky legs she stood once again from the pile and grabbed the bag Mattie had given her. She looked down at what she was wearing; leather pants and some comfortable T-shirt that now had a hole in the back of it for no reason, her wings weren’t there anymore to fill the space.

She didn’t feel like changing.

The sun rose into the sky as Carmilla started walking toward the Admissions office, remembering where it was from the few times LaF had gone there. The Campus was empty that early in the morning, only a few stragglers or early starts were out and about, none of them paying Carmilla’s state any mind, figuring she was just drunk. Carmilla practically stumbled into the Admissions office, which had just opened its doors. She reached the desk and took out the letter Mattie had gotten for her, placing it in front of the woman there.

The woman scanned the letter, before typing some things into the computer. “Ah, here we are. Ms. Karnstein, yes?” Carmilla’s stomach did a flip at the sound of the last name, memories of Mircalla resurfacing, but nodded anyway. “Wonderful. You’ll be rooming in Sheridan Hall, room 307.” Carmilla’s eyes widened slightly. She’d be rooming with Laura. Which meant seeing Perry and LaF. Often. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Carmilla nodded and the woman continued talking, handing Carmilla her schedule and other papers about things that she probably should know, but she wouldn’t read them.

When the woman was finally done talking, Carmilla shuffled her way out of the Admissions office and toward Sheridan Hall. She knew how to get there with her eyes closed. The Campus was more alive now than it had been when she had gone into the admissions office, which normally wouldn’t bother her, but now, people could see her. And boy, were they looking. It seemed like every person she walked past turned their heads just to watch her go.

It took Carmilla longer than it usually would have taken LaF to get to the dorms; she had stumbled a couple times and even had to stop to lean against a building for a break. The students looked at her strangely, but no one offered to help her. She finally made her way into Sheridan Hall and started to make her way to the third floor. It proved to be extremely difficult, not to mention exhausting. When she actually made it to the third floor, she stumbled down the hall to room 307 and, knowing from experience that Laura was awful at locking her door, barged in.

Laura was sitting at her computer, not even turning to look behind her. “Hey LaF and Perry, do you guys need—“ She stopped as she turned around and saw Carmilla, placing her bag on the vacant bed. “Um, who the hell are you?”

“Carmilla,” she managed to get out, “I’m your new roommate, sweetheart.”

And that’s when Carmilla blacked out.  

**Author's Note:**

> One little note. SIDS is Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, just in case there was any confusion there. If you have any questions about the AU or anything, feel free to ask me on tumblr, my name is lover-of-many-things
> 
> Thanks for reading! The second part will be coming.


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